


what i live for

by yeswayappianway



Series: all tied up with nowhere to go [2]
Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: 2018-2019 Season, Gen, M/M, Multi, Non-Sexual Bondage, Rope Bondage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-15
Updated: 2019-02-15
Packaged: 2019-10-28 23:38:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17796947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeswayappianway/pseuds/yeswayappianway
Summary: “Are you sure about this?” Belly asks, coming closer to the laptop.Honestly, Claude's not, at all. “Yeah,” he says out loud, “I’m sure. You good with everything?”Belly looks back over his shoulder at Flower, sitting quietly on the bed, staring at something—or maybe at nothing—across the room. “Yeah. I can see he needs something, and if this works— yeah. I’m good with it.”





	what i live for

**Author's Note:**

> this is literally 100% all remi's fault.
> 
> title from Hold Me Down, by Halsey.
> 
> this isn't beta read, in fact, _i_ didn't even look over it after i wrote it, so hopefully there's no horrific typos

“Are you sure about this?” Belly asks, coming closer to the laptop and Claude can see that his eyebrows are drawn together, worried, even through the shitty pixelated connection.

Honestly, he’s not, at all. But what the fuck else was he supposed to do when Flower called him, obviously worked up, and Claude was on the other side of the damn country? They didn’t _do_ this, but… apparently now they do. It’s a good time for firsts, Claude thinks with a tinge of desperation.

“Yeah,” he says out loud, “I’m sure. You good with everything?”

Belly looks back over his shoulder at Flower, sitting quietly on the bed, staring at something—or maybe at nothing—across the room. “Yeah. I can see he needs something, and if this works— yeah. I’m good with it.”

Claude nods, and then says, “Hey, Flower.”

Flower looks in the direction of the computer, although he still seems a little distant. Claude asks, “What do you want? The same as usual?”

There’s a moment of silence and Claude is really regretting the Skype connection between them, because it only makes it that much harder to see how Flower is actually taking anything. Flower does speak up, though, and says, “Uh, yes. The same, that’s good. Just… keep talking?” He looks between Claude and Belly. “Either of you, I just don’t want to hear myself.” It sounds like he might say something else, but nothing else comes out. Claude spares a second to check on Belly, see how he’s handling this. He looks more determined than before, if anything, and he looks back at Claude and nods.

“Alright. You got the ropes?”

Belly nods again.

“Great, let’s start with his arms. Flower, can you put your arms behind your back for us?” There’s a flicker of a reaction when Claude says “for us” and then Flower does it, leaning forward where he’s perched on the edge of the bed. “Good. Belly, take the rope, loop it around both his arms once, in the middle of his biceps, then wrap the ends around the—yeah, like that.”

Wryly, Belly says, “I have done this before, you know, I’m not totally new here.” Claude feels like showing his shock would be rude, and he really doesn’t want to piss off Belly, for Flower’s sake, mostly.

Claude just says, “Alright, tell me if I’m over-explaining, then. Do that again, once at his elbows, and once at the wrists.” He can see Belly pulling Flower’s arms together gently as he moves on to the next loop, and Claude says, “Flower, tell us if anything is too much.”

Flower just shakes his head mutely, and Claude grits his teeth. Of course. Nothing is going to be too much when he’s this wound up. Belly looks up at the laptop, though, and says, “Relax, G, I got this.”

Once the third loop is pulled snug, Flower looking a little off balance as his shoulders are pulled tight and he can’t effectively put his weight on his hands anymore, Belly lets go of the rope, and starts rubbing Flower’s shoulders. “Hey, I know things have been hard lately.” That gets a snort from Flower, but Belly ignores it and keeps going. “It’s been rough for everyone, but that’s okay, it happens sometimes.” He shoots another look at the camera, and Claude catches a hint of mischief before he says, “But hey, at least we didn’t get our coach fired.”

“Hey!” Claude yelps, because that’s below the belt, as far as he’s concerned, but his irritation melts away when he sees the blurry edge of a smile on Flower’s face. Claude sighs. He can take a little chirping, he supposes, but he’s going to have a talk with Bellemare after this.

“It’s a lot of pressure on you,” Belly says, more seriously. “Just let us take care of things for you for a little while.” He gives Flower’s shoulders one last rub, and then steps back. “What’s next?” he asks.

Claude thinks for a moment. “Can you get him kneeling on the bed? Like, leaning back on his feet.”

“Up you go,” Belly says, keeping his hands on Flower’s arms as he helps Flower stand up. Flower’s balance is probably better than either of theirs even with his hands literally tied behind his back, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t need the presence. Claude has learned that Flower likes knowing someone is there, feeling them, and he figures that now, especially, that’s what he wants. Belly turns Flower around, and Flower gets on to the bed again, awkwardly, one knee at a time, and now Belly obviously is supporting his weight as Flower wobbles a bit, and leans into Belly’s hand on his shoulder.

“Yeah, just like that,” Claude says, remembering that Flower had asked to hear them. It’s not like he has anything to say, but Claude has lots and lots of practice talking nonsense. Belly’s half kneeling on the bed himself now, getting Flower turned back to the camera while on his knees. Claude stops them. “Actually, wait, no, can you turn him so his side is toward me? That way I can see what’s happening.”

“Good idea,” Belly says, and Claude can’t see if Flower reacts or not. They’re a bit farther away from the laptop now, and the details are hard to make out. Claude wishes he was there.

Flower is wearing a white t shirt, and it wasn’t particularly loose before, but now it’s almost obscenely tight across his chest. Claude is struck with the need to run his hands across Flower’s chest, but he doesn’t know if he can ask Belly to do that, how far this agreement goes. Belly must pick up on his conflict, because he looks directly at Claude, and even through the camera, Claude is struck by how intense he looks. He’d liked Belly well enough on the Flyers but he’d put him out of mind pretty quickly after the expansion draft. Claude can’t believe he’d forgotten this look, though, the focus and concentration evident and almost a little intimidating.

“What do you want, G?” he asks.

Claude swallows. It’s also asking for it out loud, he realizes. If he were there, he could just—do it. Instead, he says, “Run your hand down his chest.”

Belly does as Claude says. He says, “Shirt’s even tighter than Reavo’s, huh?” and he’s turned toward Flower, so Claude can’t see his face, but it sounds like he’s smiling.

Flower is still tense, but it looks a little more intentional now, less the product of carrying stress around with him and more his own force of will. Good.

“Yeah, do that a little more. There’s no point in having him like this if no one is appreciating it,” Claude says, mind racing as he tries to think through what the next step should be. Belly’s hands linger on Flower’s pecs, glide down his abs, and Flower makes a stilted movement toward him.

Claude notices his own breathing has sped up a little. “You’re doing great,” he says, and he’s not sure if he’s talking to Flower or Belly. “Ready to keep going, Belly?”

In answer, Belly reaches around to pick up the rope trailing from Flower’s wrists. “What’s next, Cap?”

Oh. Something warm rises in Claude’s chest when he hears that, but he doesn’t let himself think about it right now. “I was thinking we can tie wrists to ankles,” he says.

Belly raises an eyebrow. “How tight?”

“Up to you,” Claude shrugs. “You’re there, you can feel how it’s going. I want him to have to stretch a little.” Belly still looks a little skeptical, but Claude knows this is right. Flower needs his mind taken off of things, and immobilizing him will only let him think. “Trust me.”

“Your show,” Belly agrees. “Should I tie his ankles together first?”

Claude thinks for a moment. “You’ve got plenty of rope, right? Without getting another piece?”

There’s a minute when it looks like the screen freezes up, and then Belly is saying “—be enough.” Good enough.

“Okay, so knot them together, and then use one end around each ankle. Like I said, it’s up to you how tight it is, you can see how Flower’s doing. I want him to be testing them a little.” The whole time Claude is describing this, he’s watching Flower as closely as he can, so he catches the rise of Flower’s chest as he breathes in sharply when Claude says he wants him testing the ropes.

Yeah, Claude was right. He mentally pats himself on the back, reveling in the feeling of vindication. He and Flower have only been doing this for just over a year now, but it’s been a busy year. Claude’s always liked that, anyway, knowing what his partner wants and being able to give it to them.

Belly must have tied the knot, because now he’s running the rope around Flower’s wrists, and he’s kept it pretty loose. Claude is about to speak up, tell him to go tighter, when Belly says, “Flower, I don’t know how you two usually do this, but I need you to tell me if this is bad. I’m not gonna be responsible for you getting injured, okay? The trainers might murder me, and Prior definitely will.” Flower nods almost immediately, and Claude can see a difference. It’s hard to tell via the Skype connection, and even harder to describe, but Flower is more attentive now, less of that glazed-over look in his eyes, even as he seems to be pliant and completely willing to let Belly move him.

Then Belly starts pulling the ropes, tugging each loop around Flower’s ankles, and Flower’s shoulders pull back further as the slack disappears. “What do you think?” Belly asks, when Flower’s arms are almost completely perpendicular to the ground, his chest forced even more forward. Claude can see the movement of his shoulders every time he takes a breath.

“A little tighter,” Claude says, his voice a little rough. He clears his throat. This isn’t about him, Claude thinks, even as he starts to notice how tight his pants are, the pressure of his dick against them. “Get it so he’s a little off-balance.”

Belly puts one hand firmly between Flower’s shoulder blades, and with the other, he pulls down on the rope. Flower makes a choked-off noise, and Belly stops, the concern clear in his posture.

Claude says, “Perfect.” That gets him a look, and it seems like Belly might argue. “You said you trusted me, right?” Claude says, leaning toward his camera. “Then _trust_ me. That’s perfect.”

Flower is lifting his hips slightly. He could stop, but that would make the ropes just the uncomfortable side of tight, and Claude knows that Flower will be caught between the strain of keeping the posture and letting the pull of the ropes get harder. He keeps shifting minutely, one minute seeming to relax, and then straightening his hips out until he’s making almost a triangle somehow.

“So good,” Claude says in a rush. “You’re doing so good—both of you,” he adds as Belly ties off the rope and steps back. Flower wobbles when he loses Belly’s support, and it’s killing Claude that he can’t see Flower’s reactions better. “Belly,” he demands, “tell me what’s happening.”

Belly gives him a look of confusion, and Claude curses. Of course _now_ would be the time they’re not on the same page.

“Is he trembling?” Claude asks. “Can you see the ropes digging in anywhere? Is he having to shift back and forth to stay up, or is he still? I can’t _see_ , the little things.”

“Oh,” Belly says, and Claude can’t quite pick up on what the new note in his voice is, but Belly starts talking, so Claude ignores it. “He’s staying still, and it’s almost like he’s holding himself in this position, not the ropes. They’re going to leave some marks, but they should go away by tomorrow, nothing permanent,” Belly declares, looking up close at the rope around Flower’s elbows. Flower licks his lips, and Claude doesn’t think Belly saw it, but he did. Claude smiles. Flower likes being talked about, being looked at. Claude had asked purely for his own interest, but he should have known it would help Flower, too.

“Oh,” Belly says again, but this time it’s wondering, and he steps back out of the way to give Claude a full view of Flower, back arched, hips slightly lifted away from his feet. It’s certainly a sight. “Now he’s trembling, you were right.”

Claude can’t see it, but he knows from experience that Flower can probably keep this up for a while. “Well, Flower, what do you think? Want to stay there for a while longer?”

Flower turns his head to look at the camera, and it’s the first time since the ropes went on that he’s actually made eye contact with Claude. His eyes are bright, an expression in them that Claude can see even through the screen, that he’s only ever seen when he had Flower tied up like this. Claude feels his breath catch.

“Alright,” he says. “A little longer.” Flower nods ever so faintly, and faces front again. Or really, up, because his head is thrown back, continuing the arc of his back. Claude clears his throat, and says, “Belly, you’re up. Give him something to listen to.”

Claude has no idea what Belly says, because he gets lost in the sight of Flower. There’s so much to focus on, the overall picture he makes of contained desperation, or the muscles that stand out in his arms, or the way his adam’s apple is hugely prominent whenever he has to swallow, or—Claude stops himself.

“I think that’s good,” he says, and Belly stops mid-sentence. “You think so?”

Belly takes a minute to look over Flower, and then nods. “Yep.”

“Great,” Claude says. He has no idea what his voice sounds like. “Start untying him then, make sure you help him relax.”

Belly rolls his eyes. “I told you, not my first time.” And it looks like it. As he unties Flower, he rubs over where the ropes had been, taking care to keep Flower upright even as Flower lurches forward when he unties the ankle ropes. It doesn’t take long for the ropes to come off, and as Flower rotates his wrists, flexing his hands, Belly keeps a comfortable hand on Flower’s shoulder.

“Thanks,” Flower says hoarsely. It’s the first thing he’s said in—a while. Claude had lost track of time there, and he silently offers his thanks for Belly, because if it had just been the two of them, Claude doesn’t know if it would have ended.

Belly smiles. “Are you mostly okay?”

Flower shakes his head from side to side, shifting to sit down on the bed, his legs out from under him. “I’m better,” he says.

Belly gives him an unimpressed look. “Can I leave you alone, or do you need me to help you with anything?”

Flower looks a little sheepish, ducking his shoulders and not quiet looking at him. “Oh. I’m good, thanks.”

“You can give me a better thank you later,” Belly says, with a significant glance at Claude. “I’m going to leave you two alone now. I don’t want to hear anything else.” Depiste what he’d said, Belly hesitates, and then gently knocks his head against Flower’s as if they were on the ice. Then he leaves, with not another look.

“So,” Flower starts at the same time Claude says, “Well—”

“Thank you,” says Flower after a pause. “I— yeah. Just… thank you.”

Claude doesn’t know what to say. “Of course,” he says.

There’s a minute where they just look at each other, Flower still absently shaking out his arms. Claude frowns. “ _Do_ you need more help stretching back out? You need arms to stop pucks.”

Flower gives him a very unimpressed look. “I can go work out later if it will make you feel better.”

“I’m just checking!” Claude protests.

“Claude. We have time to ourselves, and we’re already in a video call. If we don’t have Skype sex, what’s even the point?”

Claude laughs. “No complaints here.”

“Good,” Flower says, and then he smirks. “Maybe it’s my turn to tell you what to do.”

“Fuck,” Claude breathes. “Sure, why not?”

**Author's Note:**

> Remi: Poor Flower, he's started so many games and is on a losing streak right now, he needs Claude to tie him up from your au  
> me: [already plotting this in my head]
> 
> anyway after this, they have skype sex and then they just kind of... lay there and talk about random shit in the dark. the next day, flower makes sure to take belly out for a really nice lunch and make sure nothing is weird and everything is ok.
> 
> some people have actual game reactions, some people write not-porn. apparently. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> come hang out with me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/steelinstories) or [tumblr](https://topcopbobrovsky.tumblr.com) or [dreamwidth](https://steelinmystories.dreamwidth.org) and talk about this rare pair that's consumed my life, or anything else


End file.
